Neverseen (45 page)

“You gave me a stache?” he asked, cracking an actual smile. He twisted the ends into points as his hair and eyebrows turned the same dark shade, and his skin took on a deep tan.

“You have to see yourself,” Biana told Sophie. “You look a little like me.”

“Ew, she’s right,” Fitz said with a shudder.

Sophie tried not to take the “Ew” personally as she checked her reflection. Her hair hung in dark, soft waves, and her eyes had turned aquamarine. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, and she had a deep tan to match Keefe’s.

“How long will this last?” Sophie asked.

“Two hours at most. And the final twenty minutes can be hit and miss, depending on your metabolism. So I’d be away from any crowds before that happens,” Kesler warned.

“They’re not going there alone, right?” Grady asked.

The door belched. “No, they’re going with me.”

All eyes turned to find Sir Astin standing in the doorway.

“Whoa, so it really is him,” Dex said. “I mean, I know you told us, but still.”

“Him who?” Grady asked.

“This is Mr. Forkle,” Sophie said. “One of his other identities.”

Everyone squinted at the figure in front of them, trying to find any trace of Mr. Forkle in the pale blond elf.

“We need to split into two groups,” Mr. Forkle-as-Sir-Astin said. Even his voice had shifted to the high whisper Sophie remembered. “There will be less chance of anyone seeing through our disguises if the size of our group does not match expectations.”

“I’ll take Fitz and Biana with me,” Della said.

“That should work. Have your son transmit to either myself or Miss Foster if you have any problems.”

If you see Alvar, ask him about Ruy,
she transmitted to Fitz, hoping the Vackers would try for a covert family reunion.

Fitz nodded as Sir Astin asked, “Are we ready?”

“Almost,” Dex said, then burped a huge belly-shaking burp that would’ve put Iggy to shame. He was still saying, “Excuse me,” when his skin and hair turned five shades darker. His periwinkle eyes turned so deep blue they almost looked black, and muscles bulged in his arms and shoulders, stretching the fabric of his shirt.

“Okay, ready,” Dex said, his voice at least an octave deeper.

Sir Astin rolled his eyes. “The Council’s address will be starting soon. Della, let’s have your group go first.”

She took Fitz’s and Biana’s hands and glittered away, using the path Sir Astin created for them.

“Where are you taking Sophie?” Grady asked.

“I believe the Council set up their stage in the diamond plaza,” Sir Astin said. “So I was thinking the ruby arches would be a safe place to tuck ourselves away.”

Grady nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on the guards.”

“Thank you. And thank you for your assistance, Mr. Dizznee. Your generosity will not be forgotten.”

“Just keep my boy safe and we’re even.” Kesler pulled Dex in for a final hug.

Sophie strangle-hugged Grady, wishing she’d gotten to see him for more than ten minutes.

Keefe stood there watching.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,” Grady promised when Sophie pulled away.

She tried to believe him, giving one last smile as she took Sir Astin’s hand and leaped to Eternalia.

S
OPHIE HADN’T BEEN
to Eternalia since the day Kenric died, when she’d stood with Alden and Fitz, watching the jeweled city melt in the Everblaze. She’d heard it had been rebuilt, but she’d assumed it would look patched together. Instead the new city shined brighter than the original.

Each new building was made from multiple jewels, and the colors were artfully arranged. It felt like walking through a world made entirely of stained glass. And yet, the breathtaking beauty felt
wrong
. A place blanketed with so much tragedy shouldn’t be allowed to shimmer.

Sophie hid behind her dark hair as they entered a crowded square. Elves had gathered around a fountain with a statue
in the center, resting under arching streams of colored water. Sophie’s breath caught when she recognized the statue’s face.

The sculptor had captured Kenric’s toothy grin and the twinkle in his eyes. And yet, stone could never capture the warmth Kenric had radiated.

She studied the statue’s features, trying to spot a similarity between his and hers—something to prove, or disprove, her theory. The slope of his nose looked familiar, as did the corners of his eyes, but it was too ambiguous to mean anything.

“Come along,” Sir Astin said. “The protest is this way.”

A river divided Eternalia, with the main city on one side, and the Councillors’ twelve crystal castles glittering on the other. The Pures lined both shores, filtering the air and casting slender shadows. The shadows spread wider that day, from the hundreds of gnomes clinging to the towering trunks and balancing on the fan-shaped leaves.

More gnomes gathered along the river, lined up in neat rows like crops. They sang as one, demanding justice, their earthy voices echoing off the jeweled walls.

A row of goblins had stationed themselves in front of the gnomes, creating a blockade of rock-hard muscle. Sophie couldn’t tell if they were trying to protect the gnomes, or stop them from entering the diamond courtyard where a stage had been set up for the Council. Either way, one goblin toward the center was the biggest, grayest, gobliniest sight for sore eyes ever.

“Sandor,” she whispered, wishing she could tear through
the crowd and tackle him. But that would be the kind of crazy security risk he’d give her a never-ending lecture for.

Sandor didn’t show any scars, and when he moved, she saw no sign of a limp. It seemed too much to hope that he could survive a fall like that with no permanent damage. But maybe Elwin was
that
good.

The crowd of elvin onlookers kept a safe distance from the goblins, stretching into the city and scattering among the jeweled buildings. Sir Astin led them to a ruby tower off to the side, with graceful arches lining the bottom floor that gave them enough shadows to hide in and still have a perfect view of the stage.

Sophie searched the crowd, hoping to spot Fitz. But she saw no trace of any of the Vackers. The only face she recognized was Jensi. He stood with his parents and an older brother Sophie had never seen before. Several guys with long greasy ponytails stood at Jensi’s side, and Sophie wondered if that meant Jensi had gone back to hanging out with the group Marella had nicknamed the Drooly Boys. She wished she could catch his eye and give a small wave, but she knew he wouldn’t recognize her.

“There’s my mom,” Dex said, pointing to a woman with amber-colored hair. She looked so much like Edaline, it took Sophie a second to notice Edaline standing next to her.

“I can’t believe she brought the triplets,” Dex said, laughing as the three wild-haired kids ran circles around Juline and Edaline.

“I guess everyone’s here,” Keefe mumbled. “Even
him
.”

Sophie followed Keefe’s gaze to where his father stood with the goblin guards, ordering a small group of them to divide off and cover the stage.

“So he’s back in charge of security,” Keefe said, his voice as dark as his mustache.

“He regained his title recently,” Sir Astin explained, “after those maps—and the guards he recommended—saved the alicorns from the Neverseen’s latest attempt at capture.”

“Wait—what?” Keefe asked, and Sophie was forced to tell him what little she knew.

“Great,” Keefe grumbled. “Guess I can add that to the list of awesome things my mom is doing ‘for me.’ Or
was
doing for me. Or . . . whatever.”

Sophie reached for his hand, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. He twined their fingers so tightly it cut off her circulation.

“Don’t look now,” Dex whispered, “but I spy Stina.”

Sophie followed the tilt of Dex’s head. “Ugh—you have to be kidding me!”

Of all the people they could’ve ended up standing near, they
had
to wind up right by the Heks family? Stina had tamed her frizzy hair into a sweeping braid and wore a loose gown that made her look much more statuesque than gangly. But her scowl definitely hadn’t changed.

“Is that Marella?” Dex whispered, pointing to a petite girl
next to Stina, leaning against an arch, unraveling one of the tiny braids in her long blond hair.

Marella had befriended Stina not long after her falling out with Sophie, and Sophie was sure she’d done it to spite her.

“We should be careful,” Sophie said, pulling Dex and Keefe deeper into the shadows of their archway. “If any of them recognizes us, I’m sure they’ll turn us in.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge the Hekses—or Miss Redek,” Sir Astin said under his breath. “The Heks family has proven there is more to them than we once thought. And as for Miss Redek, has she never told you about her parents?”

“No,” Sophie admitted. Dex shook his head as well.

Marella gossiped about everyone except herself.

Sophie stole another glance at the couple standing with Marella. Her dad had wide ice blue eyes like his daughter, and her mom had the same unruly hair. They looked normal enough.

Sir Astin leaned closer. “Her mother suffered a traumatic brain injury when Miss Redek was barely a toddler. It’s unclear exactly what happened—though many suspect an abundance of fizzleberry wine came into play. All we know is that Lady Redek fell off the balcony of their house and cracked her skull. Elwin did all he could, but some wounds cannot fully heal. At times her emotions get overloaded. I remember one conversation I had with her, she laughed, cried, and screamed at me in a matter of minutes. She drinks elixirs to manage it, but it still
takes its toll on her family. In fact, young Miss Redek keeps trying to manifest as an Empath in hopes that she can help her mother gain further control. A couple of months ago we thought her mind had finally cooperated, but it turned out to be a misunderstanding.”

“A couple of months?” Sophie whispered, realizing that synced perfectly with the time Biana manifested as a Vanisher.

That was the day she’d first noticed Marella not acting like herself—and not long afterward, her and Marella had their big fight. She’d thought Marella might’ve been jealous because she’d said once that she wanted to be a Vanisher too—but that must’ve been something Marella had made up to cover her secret. Now Sophie wished she could run over and apologize for not understanding. Or go back in time and be a better friend.

An immense fanfare reminded her why they were there, and her pulse sped as all twelve Councillors glittered onto the stage. Their jeweled cloaks and circlets glinted in the sunlight, but this time it didn’t make them look regal. Compared to the gnomes in their overalls and grass-woven dresses, the Council looked frivolous and cold.

Oralie stood between Bronte and Terik, and Sophie could see the unease in their stance. Even Councillor Alina’s confident smile was missing.

“Thank you for coming today,” Councillor Emery said, his eyes focused on the gnomes. “As promised, we’re here to
answer your many questions. But we’re going to start with the main one.
Why
were you kept in the dark about the plague? We did have a reason—one that was not actually
our
choosing. We kept the secret because your ancient leaders begged us not to tell you. In fact, it was their dying wish.”

He paused to let the news rustle through the crowd. Even Sir Astin seemed surprised to hear it, and no one seemed to know how to react.

“Keeping our promise has been one of the greatest challenges we’ve ever faced,” Emery continued. “But we felt it was important to honor the word we gave. We still feel it’s important, which is why we must at least ask that you leave the matter here, trust that we’re following the wishes of your leaders, and return to your lives.”

Murmurs rose among the gnomes, swelling into angry shouts, and Councillor Emery held up his hands. “We assumed that would be your reaction. So be it. We’ll provide the whole story—though it is not a happy one. It goes back five thousand years, to the time you lost your homeland.”

Councillor Bronte stepped forward. “I was an Emissary when Serenvale was overthrown—newly appointed. In fact, Emissaries were a new thing for our world. I suppose that’s not a detail you’d consider relevant—but what
is
relevant is that our hearts were broken when your refugees arrived in the Lost Cities. Their stories of famine and bloodshed inspired immediate action, and I was ordered to contact the ogres and
make it clear that the only way to avoid war was to commit to a treaty. At first, the ogres cooperated, and agreed to meet under a truce. King Gowg—the ogre king at the time—even invited us to Serenvale. Councillor Fallon Vacker went with me, as did both of the gnomish leaders. But when we arrived, we began to see the depth of our dilemma. Serenvale had been destroyed. The Eventide river ran with polluted water, and the trees had all been torn from the ground. Even if the ogres surrendered the land, there would be nothing for your people to return to.”

Angry shouts erupted among the gnomes, and Bronte paused to allow their rage before he continued.

“Our goal was still to negotiate peace,” he said. “To ensure nothing like this would ever occur again. So with your leaders permission, we continued our treaty negotiations. But the ogres refused to consider our demands. We were preparing to return to the Lost Cities, when King Gowg invited us to dine with him. He claimed it would be a chance to better understand one another. I cannot tell you how much I wish we hadn’t agreed. The conversation was as horrible as the food, and he ended dinner with an ultimatum. He told us in three weeks we would see that he had the upper hand in these negotiations. We returned to the Lost Cities and prepared for an attack. But nothing changed and the deadline passed uneventfully. We were determining our next steps when we received word that your leaders had fallen ill.”

Bronte’s voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat several times.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to describe their symptoms. It was the same plague we face now. And it had spread to their spouses, as well as the trees they’d taken up residence in. At first, we didn’t understand the connection. We thought they’d encountered a new pathogen in our world, and we kept the quarantine quiet to avoid panic. The only gnomes who knew were the healers who worked with our physicians, searching for a cure. None of them could find the mysterious parasite. And then King Gowg paid Lumenaria a visit. That was the first time any of us heard the word ‘drakostomes.’ ”